


The Stoplight Effect

by DesertMoon



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Bullets Era, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, Loss, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4192878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertMoon/pseuds/DesertMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes something happens which is so devastating that it just seems to pull everything to a halt for everyone involved. </p><p>[I imagine this being from Ray's perspective, but I also want to leave it open for you guys reading. So, the narrator is a close friend, and it's completely up to you whether that friend is Ray, or someone of your own choice.]<br/>Moon x</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stoplight Effect

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER** : This piece of writing does not contain any factual information. These characters are entirely fictional and I make no attempt to represent any real people. I ask that readers have respect for our community; please do not share this work where it won't be welcome. Should this work offend or upset, please contact me. I will happily and immediately discuss, or simply take it down.

We were in his room Saturday morning with his sister, Sandy, and a few of our other friends. Gerard was late and everyone was pretty grumpy to be up so early. It was still nice though. Sandy was a couple of years younger than the rest of us, but she had always been around. Summers wouldn’t be the same without her. It took a few years, but eventually Frank stopped complaining about having his little sister around. When Gerard finally arrived, we were getting backpacks sorted downstairs. We were getting ready for a drive to New York the next day for Sandy’s boyfriend’s gig. No one liked Sandy’s boyfriend, but everyone liked beer, and there would certainly be beer at the show.

Besides, it was summer, no one had anything better to do.

Sometime before lunch we went back upstairs and everyone was occupied doing something or other. I just sat in the beanbag watching everyone. Gerard sprawled himself on the rug next to me and began chatting about nothing much. He made me laugh though. Sandy’s boyfriend called and she stuck her middle finger up at us when we booed her out of the room. She muttered an apology to him, glaring at us as she slammed the door. I don’t think she came back in after that. Matt was flicking through the channels on the TV. It was notoriously useless, but that never stopped anyone from trying to coax it into action. Matt, like everyone else, was unsuccessful but persistent. Nina was complaining about how hot it was and ordered someone to open a window.

Everyone ignored her.

watched her steal Matt’s phone from his jacket, but I didn’t wait to see whether he got it back or not. Gerard had just picked himself up from his spot next to me, and ambled over to his boyfriend. Frank almost squealed when Gerard’s arms slipped around his waist. I sniggered into my beer and turned away. When I looked back Gerard looked like he was still receiving a lecture on the unfairness of sneaking up on people. The next time my gaze fell in their direction, Gerard’s hands had found their way into Frank’s back pockets. I scrunched my nose and turned my attention back to the static on the TV screen just in time to watch Matt’s foot make contact with the side of the box.

The last time we saw him we were sitting around the table in the kitchen. Mrs. Iero made us all lemonade and ignored Frank’s constant requests that she leave the room. Nina squawked at Frank to be nice and dashed out of her seat to give Mrs. Iero a hug. Gerard rolled his eyes and Frank laughed, eyes lingering on his boyfriend long after everyone else had turned their attention back to the cards on the table. Mrs Iero, now washing the dishes, told us that Sandy had gone out with some friends and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. 

Meanwhile, Matt got into a fierce argument with Frank over alleged cheating. Gerard, as always, mediated. Frank was clearly still irritated even when he backed down, but was placated by the arm Gerard slipped over his shoulders. Matt looked triumphant, but he didn’t see Gerard sneaking a look at his cards when he got up for a smoke, nor did he see him whispering to Frank a moment later. Matt almost smashed a beer bottle when he lost eight dollars at the end of the round.

The sun was beginning to sink when Frank pulled me outside and told me that he and Gerard were getting married. I didn’t respond for a good few seconds. His smile was beginning to falter by the time I came to my senses.

 

“Frankie, you’re eighteen.”

 

“I know.” his eyes were bright even in the dimming light.

We stood there under the porch looking at each other. He was fighting to keep the smile on his face. I know I should have looked more impressed.

“You’re both broke.”

“Yeah, well we’re not getting married right now. Not even soon, but we’re getting married.”

“Look, I’m not going to argue with you if-“

“He doesn’t know yet.”

Now I was grinning too.

“You know, it’s customary to let the other person know when you plan this kind of thing.”

He rolled his eyes and wasted no time in punching my arm. Even through his faux-annoyance I could see his eyes glitter. I didn’t pay much attention to it at the time, I was used to it, really, but he looked happy.

“Shut up I’m going to ask him, obviously.”

“And you’re so sure he’ll say yes, eh?”

That earned me another punch. He picked at the label of his bottle and there was a pause before he spoke again, eyes now cast downwards.

“I was going to do it at the show tomorrow. What do you think?”

There was something in his expression when he looked back up at me which forced me to swallow the answer I had ready. Something didn’t let me tell him he should wait a few years, or that Gerard had never been a fan of commitment, or that his mother would flip a shit. So instead I said,

“Sounds awesome, Frankie.”

Back inside we found Matt looking at Frankie’s cards and Gerard laughing hysterically into Nina’s shoulder, who was cackling too, and the noise level was definitely higher than was acceptable. Mrs. Iero was a tolerant woman, but after another twenty minutes she began politely suggesting we either go home or get out. We were happy enough to oblige. We decided to go to a bar downtown. I don’t remember why Gerard and Frank didn’t come with us, but they stumbled off, hand in hand towards Gerard’s car. Matt whistled at them when Frank pushed Gerard up against the car door before they both climbed in. 

We were taking the bus so we just waved as they drove past us, weaving a little on the road, barely a goodbye. We expected to see them both the next day. I don’t remember much of what happened at the bar, not that it’s important now anyway. All that matters is that, if they’d come out with us that night, then maybe we would have still gone to New York the next day. Maybe we would have woken up late the next morning tired. Our worst worry would have been finding Advil for our headaches. There’s not much point thinking about that, I guess. The fact is that they both went out that night, and only one of them came back.

***

I woke up when the phone rang. Strangely enough I don’t remember much about the call from Sandy. I don’t remember her exact words or my reaction. I think Matt was at my house. I don’t remember having to tell him, but I know now that I did. It was too warm in my room. As Matt and I got dressed in silence I remember the sweat beading on my face, dampening my hair. The fan didn’t work, but maybe it wasn’t just the heat.

I still I don’t bother getting up on warm summer Sunday mornings.

I went to the Iero’s at lunchtime and Sandy met me on the porch, her face was in the green shadow of their oak tree. She started to cry as I approached. We stood there on the porch for a while. Matt must have gone home, he wasn't there. Mr. and Mrs. Iero didn’t seem to be in the house when we went inside. They might have been at the Way's. Then again, Sandy took me straight upstairs so maybe I just didn’t see them.

I didn’t cry until much later, when I was by myself, but going into Frank’s room pricked my eyelids. Sandy held my hand as I opened the door. The blinds were drawn and it took me a moment to register what I was seeing. The TV was in pieces on the floor, along with the bedside lamp and all the picture frames from Frank’s dresser. The bean bag was deflated, sitting in a puddle of white polystyrene balls. The rug was nowhere to be seen. I still don’t know where that went, but the floorboards were bare. I stepped forwards, pulling my hand gently from Sandy’s grip. She let me go, closing the door behind me. Moments later her own door slammed shut down the hall.

I stepped forward into a gloopy substance and almost fell as I walked towards the bed. The lava lamp was shattered on his desk and still oozing in slow drops. I lifted my eyes to the bed, fixing my gaze on the lump under the covers and steeling myself.

“Frankie.”

If I hadn’t seen his form stiffen I wouldn’t have known that he heard me. I picked my way over to him. Even through the gloom I could see his face, the blanket pulled up to his nose and eyes squeezed shut. His eyelashes were wet, all stuck together. Black tracks of yesterday’s eyeliner ran down his face. Smudges covered what I could see of his pillow. My chest tightened and I took a breath.

“Frank,”

I was about to open my mouth again, but I couldn’t find a single thing to say. How could I ask him if he was alright or how he was feeling? I knew the answer to both of those questions. I couldn’t tell him everything would be okay. I couldn’t think of anything that would mean anything at all. So instead I smiled weakly when he opened his eyes. They were bloodshot. He didn't acknowledge me. Wordlessly I knelt down and brushed the damp hair off his forehead. He made a muffled noise and all at once tears began flowing down his face again, squeezing their way through his closed eyes. They dripped down onto the pillow and pooled in the depression where his nose met his eye socket. There was nothing I could do. I walked around the bed, kicked off my shoes and climbed under the blanket next to him. It was too hot but I refused to move. I draped my arm over his waist and just listened while he sobbed into his pillow.

At one point he turned to face me, silent for a moment. I opened my eyes and just looked at him. When I frowned his face crumpled and he burrowed into the front of my T-shirt.

“I was driving.”

It was muffled, but I heard it.

The sobbing started again, his whole body shaking in my arms as I pulled him into me and silently willed him to tire enough that he passed out. I didn’t leave his room until well after lunchtime when he finally did fall asleep.

We saw everyone again at the funeral. My foot was in a cast because I kicked the wall of the police station on Tuesday. It was the day I’d taken Frank for questioning. I hadn’t seen him since. The funeral was the following week. Wednesday, I think. I hadn't seen much of anyone since that night, but I knew that Frank had been going to the bar. Sandy texted me throughout the week, worried about him. I kept promising to go over and keep him company, but whenever I tried to get out of bed my stomach hurt.

Sun fell over the graveyard as we put Gerard into the ground. The air smelt of petrol. I didn’t look at the coffin much. Mikey sat next to me. He'd been studying in New York, but under the circumstances he was home for a while. We didn't speak much, but he gave me a hug when we arrived. Mrs. Iero held Frank when he collapsed. I wanted to be with him too, but Sandy was holding my hand.

Before everyone left, I saw him break from his mother’s grip and throw something small and silver into the grave. It glittered in the sunlight for a few moments before it was covered in earth. I turned away.

We tried to see each other before summer ended, all of us. Only once or twice, though. I think we just got tired of sitting in silence.

In September I started looking for a job, but I’d end up at Frank’s most days. Sandy went on tour in Europe with her boyfriend’s band. We didn't know when she'd be back. Mrs. Iero did't take it well at all. She still texted me and Frank every day. More often than not I replied on behalf of Frank too. He didn't often look at his phone anymore.

I hoped that hanging around would at least prompt him to get out of bed. By that point he’d stopped going to the bar, even. He’d stopped crying too. One night I was sitting in his living room reading. Mrs. Iero had gone to a dinner party and she’d asked me to come over and keep Frankie company, but he was sleeping. This was becoming a regular occurrence. Mrs Iero joked that she should start paying me babysitting fees. By now neither of us laughed when she said that.

At around midnight the door flew open.

“Frankie? I thought you were upstairs- woah, what’s the matter?” I stood up immediately, book falling to the floor when I caught sight of his face. He stood stock still in the doorway and, while there were tears running tracks down his face and blood all over his right hand, his expression was blank.

“Frank.”

I stepped towards him which sent him moving towards the stairs. I caught him before he could put his foot on the bottom step. As soon as my hand closed on his wrist he spun around and pushed me with a strength of which I had no idea he was capable. The force of it pushed him back against the banister.

“Okay.” I said quietly.

I wish I hadn’t met his eyes, because there was nothing in them. It’s hard to explain, but it was so unfamiliar. It wasn’t Frank.

“I’m sorry. Whatever this is, we can sort it out-“

“Shut the fuck up.” he said.

“What?”

“I said, stop talking.”

“I’m just trying to- “

“Stop it. You don’t know a fucking thing about any of this.” He was slurring and as he spoke he tried and failed to push himself up off the banister. My stomach dropped and I stepped back. Now I realise I should have just agreed with him, maybe helped him upstairs somehow, but at the time I just stood there.

“You didn’t lose the only person you have ever loved, the only person you ever- you’ll ever- fuck-“ He swayed. I took half a step forward but he righted himself and scowled at me. Now, at least, I could see that the glassy quality to his eyes was largely alcohol induced. This realisation probably shouldn’t have been comforting.

“Stay the fuck away. You don’t know anything. You have your perfect little life, don’t you? Everything all nice and pretty and then there’s me and Sandy and we’re so fucked, aren’t we?”

I’ve tried hard to forget a lot of what he said next. He was drunk, and lost, and whilst he never would have said any of those things sober, there was some part of him that wanted them said.

I lie in bed at night for hours trying to remember exactly what Gerard looked like when he was singing, how he lit up whenever Frank was around, his expression when he got his first car… I’ve tried to remember the conversations we used to have on the pier at one in the morning after gigs, but I can’t. Instead I’ve got images of one of my best friends swearing me out a month after he lost his boyfriend. I can remember everything he said word for word, but I can’t form any more than a misty image of Gerard at the best of times. It’s been years, and for every time I wish that we hadn’t let Frank and Gerard leave alone that night, I’ve also wished that I could remember just one more kind word. From Gerard. From anyone.

After Frank had shouted himself to near-exhaustion that night, he tripped backwards and ended up sitting on the stairs. He burst into tears again and let me sit next to him. I petted his back in silence. I cleaned up his vomit in the hallway when he finally fell asleep. He wasn’t in his room when I woke up in the morning. I kept the note he wrote. I still have it somewhere...

“ _I’m sorry._

_I don’t remember much but I know it wasn’t good and you didn’t deserve any of it it. I didn't mean it. I left you a voicemail. You’ve been awesome, I’m really grateful for everything. Forget what I said, I know you miss him too._

_Ly, -F”_

The voicemail was mainly a tearful apology, but he also explained where he’d gone that night. I listened to the message twice and then I deleted it. I don’t like to imagine what he must have been feeling at that bar, nor do I like to think about what he did there. He was right, I didn’t understand. It wasn’t my place to pass any kind of judgement about the situation. The voice message also said that he was going to the cemetery to apologise to Gerard for “cheating” while he was drunk. 

I don't know if it's still called cheating when the other person isn't around any more.

After that morning Frank seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

I spent a lot more time at the cemetery after that. It felt a lot less lonely there than at home, and it was more exciting than looking for a job I didn’t want.

One night there was a knock on the door in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the member of the Iero family I’d been hoping to see, but it was a face i’d been missing all the same. Sandy. She slept on my couch that night. Her boyfriend had just broken it off with her in the middle of Germany. She’d flown back alone. Turns out he’d been sleeping with Nina for six months before he left to play gigs with his band. I never saw Nina again after that summer. Someone said she lives in Memphis now with her grandparents.

Matt’s still around, though. He runs his dad’s car shop. I see him sometimes.

***

Frank called me from an unknown number about a year after he disappeared. He laughed and asked if I’d forgotten about him. I didn’t know what to say to that.

I got a job eventually.

Frank asked me to move in with him once he moved back into town and I told him I would. He’s still not back. Sandy’s still living with Mrs. Iero. I think both of them like it better that way. She knows she’s welcome at my flat whenever. We usually spend Christmas together.

We want to finally make that trip to New York this summer, even if it is just the two of us. She’s hopeful that Frank will have come home by then and she wants him to come too.

 

***

We were sitting in Frank’s bed one afternoon, like we do every once in a while. The deep purple stain peeked out from under the rug where the lava lamp leaked that Sunday morning. We’re going to paint over it soon. I was watching something on my laptop and Sandy was just napping, curled up next to me. I carded her hair through my fingers until she batted me off. Rain was tapping on the windowsill and the weak sunlight was fading to purple as a storm rolled over the suburb. I thought Sandy was asleep, and I was beginning to drift myself, when I heard her say something.

“Huh?” I said, closing my laptop and pushing it to the end of the bed. 

“I’m going to go and talk to Gerard tomorrow.”

She sniffed and turned over. I put a hand on her back.

“Good idea, we can ask him when his bloody boyfriend is coming home.”

She giggled and not long later her soft snores filled the room.

**Author's Note:**

> This writing was originally for a different website and so i'm not sure how well the style conveys to fanfic  
> ***  
> If it doesn't work, I'm sorry.  
> and if it does work, I'm sorry.  
> ***  
> Thank you for reading, either way. Keep on keeping on <3
> 
> Moon x


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